Naked
by casfics
Summary: After a long three months recovering from that night, Alicia takes the final intimate step — the biggest risk yet — to heal and move on for good. Rated ‘T’ for suggestive/explicit themes and references. One-shot inspired by song lyrics.


Sunflowers used to be Alicia's favourite.

Strangely he never thought to ask why at the time; rather he focused on how her face would erupt into the widest of smiles as she took them and plonked them in the same yellow porcelain vase. This thought had propelled him into the florists' after work and had held up the queue of tutting customers whilst he dithered, wondering if she'd even care for flowers after everything happened. Never did he stop to think she might have changed, or might not even want him to come three days following the little Tuesday promise. Their stalks look weak and pathetic now, smothered in cellophane yet wilting in the vase she plonked them in.

His breath catches in his throat as everything he's ever wanted makes its way back into the room, dishevelled, and gives him one look.

One look that could set the world alight.

 **-x-x-x-**

 _Hey, you there_

 _Can we take it to the next level_

 _Baby, do you dare?_

His whole chest seizes as he rises at the same speed as she, careful not to land his eyes anywhere that could be too intrusive. Three whole months of waiting and tiptoeing and wistful promises of "one day we will" all resulting in this evening. A now or never moment they have both awaited for so long, heartbreakingly long. They are stone cold sober and just about everything is on the line.

Ethan badly wants to say something, anything, make a joke or break into a grin to prevent the long awaited moment from slipping through their clumsy fingers. His chest is in danger of not withstanding the dizzy heartbreak of implosion; if everything crumbles, the pain might not be survivable this time around.

His own quivering lip is illuminated unhelpfully by the corner lamp, which towers in the corner behind the paused TV. No hiding now. Exhaustion prevails and his trembling knees buckle. He almost topples over, but not quite, causing them to giggle at the silliness in spite of all the tension.

 _Don't, be scared_

 _'Cause if you can say the words_

 _I don't know why I should care_

'Nothing to be afraid of,' says Alicia quietly, plunging them back into seriousness with a steady breath.

The inches between them on the carpet decrease as she closes in, curiosity mixed with something unrecognisable flashing across her expression. It hits him a second before her hand grazes his chest. The smell: vanilla bean hair mask and concentrated Lenor (because she has the money to buy as much softener as she wants, duh) and musky undertones of familiarity. And he is suddenly overcome, washed with a feeling like no other.

'Hey,' she whispers gently, eyes ablaze with concern. 'What's all this?'

 _'Cause here I am_

 _I'm giving all I can_

 _But all you ever do is mess it up_

All he can do is violently shake his head. There is no way she could ever hope to understand even a little bit.

'Oh, Ethan, darling,' she swipes his tears as they fall with frantic fingers. 'Don't get all weepy, this is a happy time—'

'I know,' he gives a choked laugh. 'Partly that's the reason.'

'H-how can I make it better?' she asks tentatively.

 _Yeah, I'm right here_

 _I'm trying to make it clear_

 _That getting half of you, just ain't enough_

His mouth dries and there's a pause. He swallows, realising at once his silence has spoken some very bold volumes. But none of that matters. Alicia snakes her arm around the nape of his neck and settles her splayed palm there, burying her face deep into his shoulder. Habitually he counts a silent one, two, three before the familiar shaking starts — the force of the repressed sobs that are finally slipping out. All he can do is hold her and rock her and cry with her until both her pyjama top and his sleeved shirt are uncomfortably sticky and damp. Neither are sad or even close.

'This is ridiculous,' she whispers eventually, pressing her forehead to his. 'Seeing you cry like that ruined me. What even set you off?'

 _I'm not going to wait until you're done_

 _Pretending you don't need anyone_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

He gives himself a second just to look before talking and drinks it all in: blonde bleached hair, deep purple grooves residing under tired eyes, a few extra creases, but still a sparkle there, still her.

With the sense of intuition he fell in love with, Alicia seems to twig his innermost desire and gives a tiny nod in permission.

Their lips collide and her fingers leaf through his hair, rooting and pulling until their faces clash with an acute dizzy need he didn't even know he had. Her fingers scrabble at cotton and he freezes for a couple of seconds, breathless, then recoils and holds her tightly at arms length.

'You need to be sure this is what you _want_ , Alicia. Waiting is fine and does not mean I am going anywhere—'

 _I'm not going to try til you decide_

 _You're ready to swallow all your pride_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

She just groans and drags him back to her, full force, bringing them together once more and continuing with nimble hands where she left off.

'Seriously, Alicia,' he pants, clasping the buttons together with a shaking hand to conceal his bare chest. 'Slowly, yeah?'

'But then I have time to change my mind,' she snaps. 'Is that what you want?'

'It is not just about what I want,' he replies with exasperation which fades to disappointment. 'We have been through this.'

'You're right,' she concedes flatly, shrugging herself away and spinning to face the window.

 _Hey, get out_

 _I've got nothing left to give_

 _And you give me nothing now_

Again he is left spinning, wordless and wondering how to make things better. It is not that I don't want you he thinks. It could never be that.

Trying to reach her feels like being an experienced tightrope walker trying to cross between two peaks in the Andes. One foot amiss, just a _pinky toe_ over the line and down he will tumble. Calculated risks have never really been his thing, nor knowing what to say for the best.

There is two metres between them on the carpet and the scent of her still clings to his clothing. And every single nerve in his body is electrified, waiting. He wants to gasp out with pent up frustration and rage, anything to express the turmoil buried deep within.

Rain spatters against the window panes — hard — making a distinct clattering sound that is hard to ignore. Another one of her favourites, he remembers. They would go out in the long grass behind his apartment with a bottle of Merlot and plastic cups, sometimes a blanket, and watch the summer drizzle that landed lightly on the earth. Everything would have the same musty, washed-over smell and simply to inhale it left their lungs feeling full. Sometimes they would watch it for hours until dusk came and reds and oranges of sky spilled from behind the block of apartments. Their cue to go in was when the rumble of the motorway calmed and the sky looked inky. Maybe she is remembering that time in their lives too.

 _Read my mouth_

 _If you ever want me back_

 _Then your walls need breaking down_

'Rainy picnic?' he offers suddenly, surprising himself. 'For the sake of old times—'

 _'Cause here I am_

 _I'm giving all I can_

 _But all you ever do is mess it up_

Alicia's eyes are heavy and laden with warmth and she tilts her head a little. 'I can think of better ways to spend our time.'

 _Yeah, I'm right here_

 _I'm trying to make it clear_

 _That getting half of you just ain't enough_

Before he can avert his eyes or argue otherwise, the oversized top slips to the floor and lands in a crumpled heap.

Next follows the checked shorts, her old favourites, but they catch around her calves and break the fluidity of her each movement. Piece by piece of clothing is removed until only a puddle of fabric is left on the floor.

Just like he remembers.

'You said slowly,' she whispers, edging towards him little by little. 'And you were right.'

 _I'm not going to wait until you're done_

 _Pretending you don't need anyone_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

Everything comes flooding back at once: the pitch of her voice, heat to his cheeks, clammy hands, memories, the feelings — oh, the feelings. Urgency replaces composure and his limbs itch to move. He wants nothing more than to reach out and graze her skin just for a second. The invitation is there but he worries it is a trap.

'I've missed you,' he breathes evenly. 'Like you would never, ever understand.'

 _I'm not going to try 'til you decide_

 _You're ready to swallow all your pride_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

'Now?'

Ethan doesn't need her to repeat herself this time and refrains from asking her to use caution. And this time he doesn't stifle a groan. For the first time, he succumbs almost completely, allowing her to move over him and unbutton things with buttons and unfasten things with zips, weave and manipulate the material in the most gentle way possible. The experience is quite awakening in its purity.

She makes light work of the task and succeeds in a quick minute, bringing herself back upright to really see him.

 _I wanna give you everything_

Telltale rosy cheeks that he knows he has are mirrored by her, making him recognises the commitment they've both made to one another, the sheer sacrifice and the vulnerability now theirs simply as a result of losing their clothes. Another damning thought is that this should be like second nature. The shell of the other before them is a map they have traced, circled, pinpointed and journeyed dozens of times in the past, no subtle etching enough of a difference to fade what they once were guided by.

'You know the fastest way to a man's heart,' he says as she fiddles deftly with the last few ties on his underwear.

'I sure do,' she replies without looking up. 'Through the fifth left intercostal space, midclavicular line. Not the stomach or the pants.'

'Impressive cardiac knowledge there,' he chuckles. 'Feeling okay?'

'More than,' she nods in response with a deep breath, curling back into his shaking arms. 'I- I've never been like this with anyone before.'

 _I wanna give you everything_

'Perhaps we're just a pair of hopeless romantics who are, strangely, not just fixated on moving things as quickly as possible—'

'Well, I mean, if I'd had my way earlier,' she giggles, warm breath tickling his exposed skin. 'We'd never have had this moment calmly.'

'To say you never did believe me when I said I had psychic powers,' he whispers back to her, calloused hands sliding down her hips as they sway lightly.

 _I wanna give you everything_

'You still have some convincing to do!'

'Er, I can tell you what you are thinking for a small price?'

Alicia shudders a little and holds tighter to his shoulders as he works his way further down. 'What up, when I could just verbalise it for free?'

 _I wanna give you everything_

'I am cheap, you know,' he mutters. 'And worth every single penny at that.'

'You of all people are not—'

They lock eyes for a second as she inches out of the embrace a little, rubbing the side of her head tiredly. Second thoughts. If he only recognised and dreaded one of her many expressions, this would firmly be it: uncertainty.

'I- I'm sorry.'

He drops to the floor and scoops up the nearest item he can find to preserve her remaining dignity, ironically being the shirt with _those cuff links_ that he wore on the first ever night. It looks like a feeble offering, hanging loosely from his extended wrist. Hardly like she is going to take it anyway after the lights have been on with both their bodies to drink in like a private art exhibition. It is an odd gesture for him to make and not fair in the circumstances to introduce even a chance of misunderstanding. At once he feels a fool.

 _I'm not going to wait until you're done_

 _'Cause you pretended you don't need anyone_

 _Can't you see that I'm naked_

 _Naked, naked_

 _Oh, you see that I'm naked_

 _Naked, naked_

She knocks it out of his hand with frustration and eases herself back into his hold, sealing her decision with an urgent kiss. 'This is not your doing and it's fine to, later, whenever, just please not with your hands—'

'Sure,' he murmurs, lifting the curtain of straggly hair and dropping it back down her back. 'We can work with that.'

He cannot pretend that, just for a moment, his heart didn't crack a little when she asked him not to continue with what she once loved. Rage bubbles again in the pit of his stomach, hardly daring to think Eddie was the one that determined what she could never get pleasure out of again. But he knows, however painful the journey is, he has to follow her lead. A little part of him hopes her brief denial was just a test of her ability to retract consent. Well, _job done_ , he thinks.

 _I'm not going to try 'til you decide_

 _You're ready to swallow all your pride_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

 _I'm standing here naked_

 _Naked, naked_

Alicia's mouth has nibbled and sucked its way down the plane of his chest much quicker than he imagined. There is no real rush but they have never felt more pressed for time. His thoughts wander momentarily and then glide straight back to the moment, the sensation, how her touch imprints on his papery pale skin. Appalling moment to burst into tears, yes,

but his eyes fill again as he bites back another impulse to call out and clutch her hair. Before this moment and even into this moment, he had doubts they would even come close to reverting back to how they used to be together. He is done with being patient.

'Come up,' he mumbles, clutching her shoulders with two weak hands.

'Up?'

'For God's sake, just here—'

He folds her in and senses instantly the heavy thudding between their chests skip one and sync. For two sober people, they might as well be drunk. Ethan knows he has never felt less inebriated and clumsy, desperate for his body to work parallel with his mind.

 _I'm standing_

'I, like you, have better plans than crouching down classily on a carpet in order to rekindle,' his words begin to slur.

'But I've nowhere near finished!'

'Correction,' he replies, pressing his lips to her forehead firmly and remembering about the sunflowers. 'We haven't even begun.'

 _I'm standing here_

 **-x-x-x-**

 _ **Please let me know what you think!**_


End file.
